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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549685">Embargo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceyalexandria/pseuds/laceyalexandria'>laceyalexandria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Arrow (TV 2012), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Kryptonians, Memory Loss, Tamaran (Homeworld of Starfire), Temporary Amnesia, arrowverse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:14:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceyalexandria/pseuds/laceyalexandria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seb-Ton survived the death of his homeworld only because he was on another planet at the time of its destruction, serving as a peacekeeper for people constantly on the brink of civil war with each other. That is all he remembers. When crashing into Earth, he suffered a terrible head wound and when he awoke, his amnesia was obvious. He wants nothing more than to remember who he was before the crash because Seb-Ton can't tell if he was on the wrong or right side of history. Takes place during S02.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kara Danvers &amp; Original Kryptonian Character(s), Kara Danvers &amp; Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Private Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=YallDrunk">YallDrunk</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another story from my Wattpad account! Hooray. I'll be posting what I already have written and updates will commence in due time. Please enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts<br/>
himself aside to feel deeply for another person."<br/>
<em>Tennessee Williams.</em></p><p> </p><p><strong>SEB-TON HUNG HIS HEAD</strong> in his hands, a sort of woe overcoming his strong, sharp features as Mon-El drilled the routine questions into his brain as he did every day since the crash of Seb-Ton's ship. The <em>same time</em> every... single... day. It took enormous amounts of effort on Seb-Ton's part to not snap at the Daxamite pacing in front of his cell like a hungry tiger stalking the next set of black and white stripes in the Savannah. Despite the way he was being treated, he silently reminded himself that if their positions were reversed, he'd be doing the same thing.</p><p>"Why did you come to Earth?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>"What's your name? Your house?"</p><p>"For the twenty-third time, I am Seb-Ton, of House Ton. We are... <em>were</em>, allied to House El. We worked for them."</p><p>"Worked for them how? What did you do?"</p><p>Seb-Tom groaned, head rolling back as he looked at the ceiling of the containment cell. Red sunlight, keeping him weak, filled his vision. "You already know, I've told you this yesterday and every other day that you've asked me. I'm not lying to you!"</p><p>Mon-El ignored him. "How did you survive Krypton's death?"</p><p>"I told you already — I was stationed on Tamaran. It was a long stay and I guess I was away when it happened." He hung his head.</p><p>"Doing what? To serve what purpose?" Mon-El crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps seemingly having trouble fitting one over the other.</p><p>"Peacekeeping. Under the order of Alura Zor-El. She sent me there, I've already told you this!" Seb-Ton lifted his chin, as he had gotten into the habit of doing, and stared defiantly into Mon-El's dark eyes. They were hooded in the dim light and made it sufficiently harder to determine what his interrogator was thinking at that precise moment. The lack of knowing anything made him furious. "Why must you question me relentlessly? While we're on the topic, who are you? If Krypton died, how did a Daxamite survive?"</p><p>"<em>I ask the questions!</em>" Mon-El's voice was rough and he spoke faster now. Inside his chest, Seb-Ton's heart began its race, a sense of danger behind every word the Daxamite uttered piercing straight into him. High tensions were becoming more and more of a problem. "I won't ask this again: <em>Why</em> did you come to Earth? What are your intentions?"</p><p>"I don't know!" He cried, desperation cracking his voice. "I was all alone, that's everything I can remember right now." Seb-Ton felt his fury ebb away, giving in to his fear and sadness. It was as if the walls of the containment cell were closing in on him, squeezing the life and breath and spirit out of his body and turning it into what the walls were: cold nothingness. His eyes became downcast once more, head hanging in his hands. "Please," he begged. "Just... just stop."</p><p>The room was eerily quiet.</p><p>Mon-El became suddenly softer. "Okay," he nodded slowly, the movement itself as kindly as a mother listening to their child at a vulnerable moment. The Daxamite showed his open palms to Seb-Ton in an attempt to appear placating. "Okay. I'll stop, I'm sorry."</p><p>Seb-Ton breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing his hands over his face to scrub away the weariness and the demons circling at the edges of his vision, laughing at his misery. The daily interrogations were a relentless onslaught and his head still throbbed from when his ship had crashed. He was so tired. He probably had whiplash and the blood, which had been plentiful until the cut at his forehead and temple were stitched by a steady hand, was dry. An ugly bruise had quickly formed on Seb-Ton's forehead.</p><p>He'd been imprisoned without doing anything, kept at a foreign government's secret black site, questioned without proof or due cause and without any representation of his own, and all just for landing on this planet. As soon as his ship had come through the Earth's atmosphere the planet's defenders swarmed upon him and gave him no room to explain himself until he was locked inside of their prison. There had been no introductions, no way for him to convey that he held peace in his heart.</p><p>Seb-Ton couldn't think of anything that surpassed the unfairness of his situation.</p><p>The Kryptonian could feel Mon-El's eyes watching his every movement, every breath, every twitch, and agitation that showed plainly on his features and in his body language. Seb-Ton was getting exhausted with this stone gargoyle on his shoulder and feeling like he was a bad guy. He wasn't a bad guy. Was he? He almost couldn't tell anymore. Seb-Ton might not have his memories but he was almost certain he hadn't come to Earth with terror in mind.</p><p>Though every question asked and every harsh word spoken to Seb-Ton made him want to cry out like a child, <em>Believe me! I didn't do anything wrong!</em> Would they ever believe him? Would Mon-El ever? It was hard to say.</p><p>It felt entirely hopeless to try.</p><p>He was probably done for. He'd used every ounce of his strength and will to resist interrogation and remind himself that he was a good person, the way he sensed it in his heart and soul told him he had to be, but nothing could make him <em>feel</em> it.</p><p>Wordlessly, Seb-Ton kept from looking at Mon-El and laid on his back in the sparse containment cell. He turned his eyes slowly to the ceiling and released a slow, deep breath until all the air had left his diaphragm and his lungs cried for breath. He wasn't sitting on the bed in the cell — only guilty men slept in that bed. Seb-Ton didn't think he was guilty of anything other than being in the wrong place at the worst time.</p><p>The ground was comfortable enough for him. He got the inclination that Mon-El, who continued to stand and watch his charge, wanted to keep questioning him but he was done for today and this was his way of showing the Daxamite that. There would be no more questions, no more answers until day twenty-four.</p><p><em>I haven't done anything</em>, Seb-Ton reminded himself. <em>I haven't done anything. I haven't done anything.</em></p><p>When Seb-Ton tried his hardest to remember anything before his ship, which he distinctly remembered naming The Orion, crashed through Earth's atmosphere and landed in a desert of golden sand, he couldn't push through. Not knowing what had led him to this planet was one of the most troubling things. Why did he come here? He didn't know. Why did he leave Tamaran? He didn't know. What was he looking for? He didn't... he was looking for something?</p><p>Pushing harder against that thought, Seb-Ton tried desperately to grasp it and follow it back to the source. <em>What was I looking for?</em> The question begged to be answered, chased, captured. Just when the Kryptonian believed he'd gotten ahold of it, the answer slipped out of his grasp once more, leaving him gasping for breath and sitting up.</p><p>He coughed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead. His hair, thick and dark brown, had gotten longer in the timespan of being at the D.E.O. without cutting it.</p><p>His outburst for air had caught Mon-El's attention. Seb-Ton hadn't even noticed when the Daxamite started shouting his name, pounding a fist on the glass that separated them and kept the red sunlight contained to Seb-Ton's cell. He glanced over and grimaced at his interrogator.</p><p>"Seb-Ton!" Mon-El raised his voice. Concern crossed his features and for the first time, Seb-Ton found he could read his emotions clearly. "Hey, what's going on? Are you okay?"</p><p>"I'm... I'm fine," he shuddered at the memory he'd been so close to remembering.</p><p>Mon-El frowned. The action caused his forehead to wrinkle, brow furrowing as if the frown used his entire face to get the expression across. He lowered his hands from the glass, bending down to come to Seb-Ton's level. "You don't look fine. You look like you've just seen a ghost, what happened there?"</p><p>"Nothing," Seb-Ton lied. "I just forgot to breathe."</p><p>The lie was weak even to the Kryptonian's ears. Mon-El picked up on this too, tilting his head to the side in a challenging manner. "Don't lie to me, don't do it now. I thought we built up some trust here?" Mon-El genuinely looked disappointed but Seb-Ton didn't care, there was zero trust between them. "Just tell me the truth. What happened?"</p><p>Seb-Ton narrowed his eyes, drawing his knees up to his chest so he could wrap his arms around his legs. "I don't trust you. You've done nothing but be hostile to me! I never got a chance to tell my side of the story before you and your team made my ship crash. You're the reason I can't remember anything, this is your fault."</p><p>Mon-El's eyes widened, shock emanating from his features. "I..." he paused as if unsure of his words. "I'm sorry."</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>Now it was Seb-Ton's turn to be surprised. He recoiled and stared at Mon-El as if he'd grown three heads. "You're sorry?"</p><p>The Daxamite nodded. "I am. We should have given you a chance to talk to us before we did what we do best: destroying things, saving the planet, etcetera etcetera." Mon-El suddenly looked down. "You came at a bad time, Seb-Ton. We thought you were apart of the recent attacks on Earth and it's not an excuse, but it is an explanation. I'm so sorry."</p><p>"What attacks are you talking about?" His heart lurched, unable to focus on anything else. Seb-Ton was certain he had nothing to do with these attacks, but he had to know for sure.</p><p>"You asked how a Daxamite could survive the death of Krypton?" Mon-El wasn't asking but he was inferencing. "Well, I wasn't the only one who survived. My parents are here and they want me to leave with them, so they're attacking the planet and I honestly have no idea what my mother thinks she's going to accomplish."</p><p><em>Daxamites</em>. Seb-Ton would never be involved in their business, at least he could figure out he wasn't apart of some invasion. He sighed in relief and covered his face with his hands. "Oh, thank Ra."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I've been doubting myself," he confided. "I just keep questioning whether I'm a bad person or not. I can't remember why I came here or who I was looking for and it hurts to not know any of these things. I... I almost thought I was part of these attacks you just mentioned."</p><p>Mon-El paused. "<em>Who</em> you were looking for?"</p><p>Seb-Ton's brow creased, he raised his chin higher. He'd done it again. It was like his body knew things his brain didn't and was struggling to spill the secrets in some capacity. "I don't know, that just slipped out. I still can't remember anything." He was fully aware of how desperate his voice became. "I'm so confused."</p><p>"Don't worry, I'll help you through this," Mon-El promised solemnly. "You still have to stay here though. This is for your own protection."</p><p>"I understand."</p><p>"Good," he nodded and rose to his feet. "I'll come back later. I'll try to get Kara to see you this time, you're probably tired of looking at me so much." Mon-El chuckled, more to himself, while Seb-Ton stared up at him.</p><p>"Kara?" Seb-Ton queried. Her name, initially, didn't sound familiar but there was some tug in his heart at the sound of it coming from Mon-El. Where had he heard her name before? Seb-Ton pressed eagerly against the mental barrier holding him from his memories but it wasn't budging.</p><p>It was no use, not when he was like this.</p><p>He sighed in frustration and ran his hands over his legs to comfort himself.</p><p>"Yeah," Mon-El replied softly. His eyes became distant, hollowed. It was like the Daxamite was regretful about something. "Kara. I didn't tell her about seeing your ship until I'd already made you crash. She probably would've stopped me to talk to you. If I'm being honest, I haven't told her about a lot of things lately."</p><p>He was guilty. After days upon days of relentless questioning, Seb-Ton was finally learning things about his interrogator. The revelations brought no joy to him to hear that Mon-El was having trouble communicating with this Kara character, but he wasn't sure what to do. Should he try to comfort him? Give advice? Seb-Ton wasn't sure what he would've done if he had his memories (that is to say, he wasn't exactly sure what kind of person he was before) but it only seemed right to try and help.</p><p>"Why aren't you being honest with her?" Seb-Ton hugged his knees tighter for a moment.</p><p>Mon-El shrugged. "I don't really know. I guess I'm scared? I never wanted Kara to know certain things about me but now they're all out in the open, quite literally, it seems."</p><p>Seb-Ton was silent for a moment, trying to form the right words in his head. He might have trouble remembering things outside of basic facts about himself and his life but he certainly wasn't new to solving problems like this. The situation felt familiar to him.</p><p>"You don't have to be scared," he advised. "Instead, you can embrace who you are and hope she does too. Nobody should hide. It sounds like you care about this Kara, so maybe if you're just honest with her then she'll respect you for it. At least..." Seb-Ton felt himself beginning to clam up, unsure if he was saying the right things. After all, he didn't know either of them. "That's just what I think. Honesty is the key to healthy communication."</p><p>"Right." Mon-El sighed, looking suddenly ten times more exhausted than he already did. "You're right. I guess I have explaining to do then."</p><p>"It seems so."</p><p>Without another word, Mon-El turned to leave Seb-Ton alone with his thoughts. He had no idea what time it was but there wasn't much else to do except sleep. The red sunlight above him, Seb-Ton had no choice but to sit and wait for any interruption of his time. Time, as it happened to be, was something he had plenty of.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Beating A Dead Horse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You can't suppress the things that make us human. It's pointless to try."<br/>
<em>Meryl Streep.</em></p><p> </p><p><strong>MON-EL MADE HIS WAY</strong> back to where the others were waiting for him, desperate to hear if today was the day that he had managed to break through this foreigner's 'façade' and bring them new information about him and his business with Earth. Mon-El himself was slightly disappointed, knowing that the information he'd gained — <em>Seb-Ton had been looking for someone</em> — wasn't exactly clear, or useful. He knew Kara would try to put some positive spin on it, though, and maybe Mon-El could use it as an excuse to get her to see their captive Kryptonian.</p><p>As expected, both Kara and Alex Danvers were waiting eagerly in the conference room.</p><p>Kara had been intentionally left out of the ongoing interrogations because of her willingness to believe the stranger at his word and his word alone, because she was adept at seeing the goodness inside of people, and because Kara was desperately trying to find some way that could prove this Kryptonian was innocent. After some serious convincing from Mon-El and her sister, she'd agreed to back off and play it cautiously.</p><p>The women stood at Mon-El's entrance, Kara's bright blue eyes catching his and reminding him of the guilt gnawing steadily away at the bottom of his stomach, threatening to tear him apart from the inside-out. His mind began spinning, spitting words at him that he knew were vicious but true. That didn't mean he wanted to hear them, though.</p><p><em>You should have told her the truth from the day you met.</em> The words in his head only made things infinitely more difficult. He cleared his throat, they faded for the moment.</p><p>"Well?" Alex pushed. "Did he say anything new?"</p><p>Mon-El shook his head. "Not really," he grimaced. "We made some minuscule progress, but I'm beginning to think that this isn't working. He really <em>can't</em> remember anything from before. I mean, outside of facts about himself or his job, there's... nothing there. It's blank."</p><p>"What progress do you mean? You said it was minuscule?" Kara's voice dragged Mon-El's gaze over to her. He found he couldn't look away.</p><p>"He was looking for someone," the Daxamite sat heavily in a comfortable black office chair. It squeaked a little at his weight but was otherwise a godsend for his tired feet. He'd been standing nearly the whole day, between interrogating Seb-Ton and continuing to fight to defend the city, he had no time to wait around. "When he came here. So I told him about my mom... and he was relieved."</p><p>The very mention of Rhea made Mon-El turn his eyes down with guilt. The knowledge that he should have been honest with Kara ate at him and snapped at his intestines, the words began playing in his head like a scratched record. <em>Should have told her, should have told her, should have told her. Mon-El, you should have told her.</em> How could he face her now that she knew who he really was? What he came from? Who he used to be? Mon-El didn't even want to look at himself anymore.</p><p>"At least he's not working with her, then," Kara's voice was gentle. She crossed her arms, the red cape of her supersuit moving behind her as she stood at the other end of the table away from Mon-El. "We can rule that out."</p><p>"How can you be sure?" Alex questioned, brow furrowed in thought. "A Kryptonian showing up out of the blue at the very same time we're being attacked by ships full of Daxamites? It doesn't sit well with me. I don't trust him or anything he says. If he weren't under that red sunlight, he'd probably try and kill us all!"</p><p>"A Kryptonian would never work with a Daxamite," Mon-El scowled, handsome features being tugged down by his disagreement. Did Alex know what she was saying? She sounded ruled by her fear. "He's even name-dropped Alura pretty consistently. I think he's clean when it comes to this. He doesn't remember anything else and that's the problem here!"</p><p>When silence met the Daxamite's words, he thought about mentioning Seb-Ton questioning his identity. If they didn't help him figure himself out now, they could come to regret it later. Not believing a man they'd held unwillingly captive for nearly a month? Mon-El wasn't so sure he'd be receptive when he was released, it could certainly spell trouble for them if they decided to treat him like a criminal when they simply had no proof.</p><p>Coming down to it, Mon-El knew he had to tell them. They had to know what situation they were dealing with.</p><p>"He's sitting under that red sunlight in a cell we've forced him into for nearly a month and questioning if he's a good person or a bad one. He doesn't know anymore. What does that say to you, Alex?"</p><p>Alex frowned. She was beautiful, but the frown looked out of place on her features. It had no room to be there, it wasn't welcome. "That says to me maybe he's struggling inside. What if we helped him regain his memory? We have to be <em>completely</em> sure of his intentions before we release him."</p><p>Kara looked up, her blue eyes hopeful. "Maybe I can talk to Alura? Through the hologram."</p><p>"That didn't work so well last time," Alex pointed out hastily. "It's like she's wired to not give you any important information."</p><p>"It's better than nothing, isn't it?" Kara was exasperated, and rightfully so. It had been almost a month and virtually no progress was made. Knowing Seb-Ton's approximate guess of his favorite color wasn't exactly useful in determining his innocence.</p><p>"We can't just keep him here indefinitely," Mon-El spoke up, his voice coming out softer than he'd intended it to. The silence following made it clear his was becoming a voice of reason. "The only thing he's done is crash here and that was because of us, anyways. Isn't Earth supposed to be a haven of some sort for aliens like him? I mean, Kara's presence was welcomed. Kal-El's was."</p><p>"But they're different!" Alex's voice was strained. She leaned her thin hands against the table and tried not to look in Kara's direction, her sister's face was twisting into one of confusion and something that said <em>Are you serious?</em> though, Kara did a good job of controlling it. "Kara flies around day and night keeping the citizens of National City safe. Superman's been at it for even longer. They dedicate themselves to doing good things, they deserve to be welcomed and celebrated! But this <em>alien</em> that we know next to nothing about?"</p><p>The way Alex said the word 'alien' — as though it were bad to be considered one, had Mon-El shifting uncomfortably in his rolling chair. He kept his head down and avoided looking at Alex. The Daxamite wasn't sure what had brought about this new distrust of aliens, but he wasn't going to speak out. He had a feeling this is a battle Kara wanted to handle, she looked ready to strangle something.</p><p>"He hasn't earned that yet." Alex tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, Kara, but he just hasn't."</p><p>Mon-El waited for it to come. He knew it was coming and, a few seconds later, there it was.</p><p>"If we keep pushing him down and doing this to him without any proof showing us otherwise that he's a bad person, then he's never going to earn that!" Kara sounded absolutely appalled. Mon-El didn't blame her as she moved closer to her sister, head bent low. "We can't keep talking about this. The only crime he's committed is landing on the wrong planet at the wrong time."</p><p>"He came to Earth during a time of war, Kara."</p><p>"And who's to say he was working with the Daxamites and with Rhea? Alura would be able to tell us that!"</p><p>"Alura? Alura doesn't do anything. Besides, he could've changed his loyalties in the time he was supposedly away from Krypton. What if he wasn't on this Tem-Tam—"</p><p>"Tamaran?" Mon-El offered helpfully.</p><p>"Yes!" Alex seized the word, clutched onto it, made it her own. "<em>Tamaran.</em> What if he wasn't on Tamaran and he was actually on Daxam? Did you ever stop to think about something like that? I mean, it's not like your own mother ever mentioned him to you."</p><p>Both women were breathing heavier now, eyes narrowed unhappily and in anger. They were two sides of the same coin; one was cautious and thought ahead to save her loved ones, the other felt things so wholly with her entire heart and soul that she practiced caution but couldn't make a living off it when she saw injustice. Alex and Kara. Sisters by heart, friends by soul, opponents by thought. If they continued on like this, Mon-El was almost certain a fight might break out or another argument they didn't have the time to hash out.</p><p>He stood from the chair, fixed them with a steady gaze. "Alex," Mon-El began. "I know you want to be cautious, I <em>feel</em> that, I understand that... but I can assure you that I've never seen that Kryptonian before. Neither has my mother or my father. It's easy to prove if he was on Tamaran, all we have to do is ask Alura since she was technically his boss or, if that doesn't work out, then we contact the government of Tamaran directly. They have records for these kinds of political deals."</p><p>Kara nodded along with Mon-El's words and, for once, he was glad he could be useful to some ongoing business. He was happy he could fix what he'd started. After all, the Daxamite had gotten Seb-Ton into this mess, so it was up to him to get him out.</p><p>Alex, on the other hand, was looking a little more convinced but still skeptical. That was normal, that was understandable. It's hard to fight your gut instinct when your gut instinct is usually right, Mon-El had experienced what she was feeling multiple times since arriving on Earth.</p><p>"I still don't trust him," Alex's voice was weak, small. She didn't normally sound like this and it made her company pause.</p><p>"That's okay," Kara came behind her sister and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "You don't have to. We just can't imprison people who we suspect might do something bad, it isn't right. If he's good or bad, we'll find that out soon enough. He'll make those choices and we'll have to respond to them."</p><p>"And if he does something bad?" The older Danvers posed her question defiantly. "Then we have to live with the consequences if he decides to kill people or join the Daxamites. That's a choice with repercussions <em>we</em> have to bear."</p><p>Mon-El shook his head. "It won't come to that. There's good inside of him, I've seen it too many times. He won't even sleep on the bed. He knows what it means, and he's desperate to prove he's not guilty."</p><p>And just like that, the matter was ultimately settled. He could see the resignation in Alex's eyes, he knew she would have no other choice to agree or risk her sister's respect. It was the right choice, Mon-El told himself. It had to be, otherwise, they were all going to be in for a very, very bad week.</p>
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